


You're Pullin' Me Further

by Dikhotomia



Series: Whumptober 2k19: FE3H Edition [12]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, CF AU, Day 12 "Don't Move", Gen, Hence this fic was born, I had a lot of feelings about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: ""Don't. Move," she says, bow drawn, too close for Catherine to retaliate properly without giving her time to let the arrow knocked there fly. The other woman freezes, torch held barely out of range, focus sliding to her. Her free hand still rests against Thunderbrand's handle and Shamir's fingers twitch, every muscle in her body humming with tension and ready to move, to fire."ORBefore the final battle, Shamir hunts Catherine down.





	You're Pullin' Me Further

Somewhere a fire burns, the scent carrying ash and smoke that burns in the back of her throat and in her lungs as she makes her way through the city. Quick. Low. Tracking a quarry that would kill her if she got caught too soon. She should have killed her the second she had a clean shot, should have let the arrow fly and watched it impact into the exposed line of a familiar neck. Watched while the realization clocked in, eyes searching for where she would have been standing.

And Catherine would know, would have easily picked her out as she fell and fixed her with a look of betrayal that would have stuck in her ribs for years to come. Shamir tells herself none of them matter anymore, that she left because she believed her debts paid and believed in the cause she now fought for. But her and Catherine had been partners for years, too much between them for her to just brush it all off like she was sure Catherine believed she had.

She wonders briefly if Catherine had tried to do the same, if she had succeeded or failed just like her. She doesn't think about what would happen had the other woman failed, because it would just make all of this even more complicated and messy.

It isn't long before she catches sight of the other woman again, torch in hand, expression pinched with uncertainty as she approached the side of a house wet with oil.

_They were razing the city --_

Shamir spares a second of thought to the lives that were about to be lost, innocent and unaware of the monster in their midst. She thought she knew Rhea, thought her to be harsh but fair. This was just...

Too much.

"Don't. Move," she says, bow drawn, too close for Catherine to retaliate properly without giving her time to let the arrow knocked there fly. The other woman freezes, torch held barely out of range, focus sliding to her. Her free hand still rests against Thunderbrand's handle and Shamir's fingers twitch, every muscle in her body humming with tension and ready to move, to fire.

_She can hear screaming in the distance._

"I was wondering when you were going to show up again." Catherine's voice drowns out the sound, makes her realize she's doing it for just that reason. It just confirms her belief, her belief that Catherine doesn't want to be doing what she's doing, latching on to the immediate distraction Shamir offers.

"I'm surprised to see you out here," Shamir drawls, ignoring the burn beginning in her arms the longer she holds her bow taut. "With a torch in your hand. Is that what the knights do now?" 

Catherine flinches at the bitterness in her words, finally turning to look at her. Slow. Hesitant. Eyes not quite meeting hers. "That's not true and you know it." 

She does know it. It's not what Catherine signed up for; not for this, or for dealing with Rhea's rapidly declining sanity. "Weren't you the one who said that if Lady Rhea told you to you'd turn your blade on even a child?" But it doesn't stop her from digging the proverbial knife a little deeper. 

"Dammit, Shamir, that's not-"

"I know," she interjects, eyes narrowed. "I also know that no matter how willing you are to follow her orders you still question the ones like this. You'd turn your blade on a child but first you'd ask why. You're out here with a torch but I'm willing to bet you tried to talk her down."

"What about you? What about all the crap Edelgard has probably ordered you to do?" Catherine demands, taking a half step closer to her. 

"_Edelgard_ didn't order me to torch a city with innocent civilians still inside. I'm not saying she hasn't done her fair share of wrongs, but this? If she had ordered something like this? I would have left." But she's a mercenary, Dagda born and raised with little to no true loyalty to anyone here. It would have been easy for her to uproot herself and leave again, no doubt Edelgard would have let her without question.

"Yea, leaving's real easy for you these days isn't it."

It's her turn to flinch, but inward, her exterior remaining just as icy as she needs it to be. "Don't be stubborn about this, Catherine." Her arms burn worse, a tremor starting faintly that could spell life or death for one or both of them. "Put out the torch and help these people, or walk away. Edelgard is willing to accept your surrender."

"What happened to,'I won't hesitate to kill you?'"

"You're not a target. _Don't_ make yourself one." It's the final warning, the final attempt she'll make before she shuts down the parts of her that still have any feeling towards the other woman. Before she cuts them out and bleeds silently for the remainder of this last battle and beyond. Catherine hesitates, dares to look away trusting Shamir on her word once again. Looks up in the direction of the castle where Rhea and the rest of her forces have likely holed themselves up.

Her muscles ache, the bow shudders.

"I can't," Catherine says with finality, turning back. "I can't surrender, my duty is to be by Rhea's side. But I can't do this either." She looks down to the torch, flame sputtering. She tosses it down to the stone, away from them both, away from the drying stain. She doesn't draw Thunderbrand.

Shamir relaxes, easing the string and bringing relief to her arms. 

"Get out of here, Shamir." The other woman turns from her, fists clenched at her sides. "Neither of us can die yet."

"Right." 

She's gone before Catherine turns around again.


End file.
